Valentinian, a tragedy as 'tis alter'd by the Earl of Rochester, and acted at the Theatre-Royal : together with a preface concerning the author and his writings, by one of his friends.

SCENE V.

Valentinian and the Eunuch discover'd on a Couch.

Emp.

Oh let me press these balmy Lips all day, And bathe my Love-scorch'd Soul in thy moist Kisses. Now by my Joys thou art all sweet and soft, And thou shalt be the Altar of my Love, Upon thy Beauties hourly will I offer, And pour out Pleasure and blest Sacrifice, To the dear memory of my Lucina,

No God, nor Goddess ever was ador'd With such Religion, as my Love shall be. For in these charming Raptures of my Soul, Claspt in thy Arms, I'le waste my self away, And rob the ruin'd World of their great Lord, While to the Honour of Lucina's Name, I leave Mankind to mourn the loss for ever.

A SONG.

1.

KIndness hath resistless Charms, All besides can weakly move; Fiercest Anger it disarms, And clips the wings of flying Love.

2.

Beauty does the heart invade, Kindness only can perswade; It guilds the Lovers servile-chain, And makes the Slave grow pleas'd and vain.

Enter AEcius with two Swords.

Emp.

Ha! What desperate Mad-man weary of his Being, Presumes to press upon my happy Moments? AEcius? And arm'd? Whence comes this impious Boldness? Did not my Will, the Worlds most sacred Law, Doom thee to die? And dar'st thou in Rebellion be alive? Is Death more frightful grown than Disobedience?

AEcius.

Not for a hated Life condemn'd by you, Which in your Service has been still expos'd To Pain and Labours, Famine, Slaughter, Fire, And all the dreadful Toyls of horrid War! Am I thus lowly laid before your feet? For what mean Wretch, who has his Duty done, Would care to live, when you declare him worthless? If I must fall, which your severe Disfavour

Hath made the easier and the nobler Choice, Yield me not up a wretched Sacrifice To the poor Spleen of a base Favourite. Let not vile Instruments destroy the man Whom once you lov'd: but let your hand bestow That welcome Death your anger has decreed.

Lays his Sword at his feet.

Emp.

Go, seek the common Executioner Old man, thro' vanity and years grown mad, Or to reprieve thee from the Hangman's stroak, Go, use thy military Interest To beg a milder Death among the Guards, And tempt my kindl'd Wrath no more with folly.

AEcius.

Ill-counsell'd thankless Prince, you did indeed Bestow that Office on a Souldier; But in the Army could you hope to find With all your Bribes a Murderer of AEcius? Whom they so long have follow'd, known and own'd Their God in War? and thy good Genius ever! Speechless and cold without, upon the Ground The Souldier lyes, whose generous Death will teach Posterity true Gratitude and Honour. And press as heavily upon thy Soul, Lost Valentinian, as thy barb'rous Rape. For which since Heav••n alone must punish thee, I'le do Heav'ns justice on thy base Assister.

Runs at Lycias.

Lycias.

Save me, my Lord.

Emp.

Hold honest AEcius, hold. I was too rash. Oh spare the gentle Boy! And I'le forgive thee all.

Lycias.

Furies and Death.

Dies.

Emp.

He bleeds! mourn ye Inhabitants of Heav'n! For sure my lovely Boy was one of you! But he is dead, and now ye may rejoyce, For ye have stol'n him from me, spiteful Powers! Empire and Life I ever have despis'd, The vanity of Pride, of Hope and Fear, In Love alone my Soul found real Joys! And still ye tyrannize and cross my Love. Oh that I had a Sword,

Throws him a Sword.

To drive this raving Fool headlong to Hell.

Fight.

AEcius.

Take your desire, and try if lawless Lust Can stand against Truth, Honesty and Justice! I have my Wish. Gods! Give you true Repentance, And bless you still: beware of Maximus.

They fight. Acius runs on the Emp. Sword, and falls. Dies.

Emp.

Farewel dull Honesty, which tho' despis'd, Canst make thy owner run on certain Ruine. Old AEcius! Where is now thy Name in War? Thy Interest with so many conquer'd Nations? The Souldiers Reverence, and the Peoples Love? Thy mighty Fame and Popularity? With which thou kept'st me still in certain fear, Depending on thee for uncertain safety: Ah what a lamentable Wretch is he, Who urg'd by Fear or Sloth, yields up his pow'r To hope protection from his Favourite? Wallowing in Ease and Vice? feels no Contempt, But wears the empty Name of Prince with scorn? And lives a poor lead Pageant to his Slave? Such have I been to thee, honest AEcius! Thy pow'r kept me in awe, thy pride in pain, Till now I liv'd; but since th'art dead, I'le reign.

Enter Phidius with Maximus.

Phid.

Behold my Lord the cruel Emperor, By whose tyrannick Doom the noble AEcius Was judg'd to die.

Emp.

He was so, sawcy Slave! Struck by this hand, here groveling at my feet The Traitor lyes! as thou shalt do bold Villain! Go to the Furies, carry my Defiance,

Kills him.

And tell 'em, Caesar fears nor Earth nor Hell.

Phid.

Stay AEcius, and I'le wait thy mightier Ghost. Oh Maximus, thro' the long vault of Death, I hear thy Wife cry out, revenge me! Revenge me on the Ravisher! no more Aretus comes to aid thee! oh farewel!

Dies.

Emp.

Ha! what not speak yet? thou whose wrongs are greatest;

Or do the Horrors that we have been doing, Amaze thy feeble Soul? If thou art a Roman, Answer the Emperor: Caesar bids thee speak.

Max.

A Roman? Ha! And Caesar bids thee speak? Pronounce thy Wrongs, and tell 'em o're in Groans; But oh the Story is ineffable! Caesar's Commands, back'd with the Eloquence Of all the inspiring Gods, cannot declare it. Oh Emperor, thou Picture of a Glory! Thou mangled Figure of a ruin'd Greatness! Speak, saist thou? Speak the Wrongs of Maximus. Yes, I will speak. Imperial Murderer! Ravisher! Oh thou royal Villany! In Purple dipt to give a Gloss to Mischief. Yet ere thy Death inriches my Revenge, And swells the Book of Fate, you statelier Mad-man, Plac'd by the Gods upon a Precipice, To make thy Fall more dreadful. Why hast thou slain Thy Friend? thy only Stay for sinking Greatness? What Frenzy, what blind Fury did possess thee, To cut off thy right Hand, and fling it from thee? For such was AEcius.

Emp.

Yes, and such art thou; Joynt Traitors to my Empire and my Glory. Put up thy Sword; be gone for ever, leave me, Tho' Traitor, yet because I once did wrong thee, Live Like a vagrant Slave. I banish thee.

Max.

Hold me you Gods; and judg our Passions rightly, Lest I should kill him: kill this luxurious Worm, Ere yet a thought of Danger has awak'd him. End him even in the midst of night-Debauches, Mounted upon a Tripos, drinking Healths With shallow Rascals, Pimps, Buffoons and Bawds, Who with vile Laughter take him in their Arms, And bear the drunken Caesar to his Bed, Where to the scandal of all Majesty, At every grasp he belches Provinces, Kisses off Fame, and at the Empires ruine, Enjoys his costly Whore.

Emp.

Peace Traitor, or thou dy'st.

Tho' pale Lucina should direct thy Sword, I would assault thee if thou offer more.

Max.

More? By the immortal Gods I will awake thee; I'le rouze thee Caesar, if strong Reason can, If thou hadst ever sence of Roman Honour, Or th' imperial Genius ever warm'd thee. Why hast thou us'd me thus? for all my Service, My Toyls, my Frights, my Wounds in horrid War? Why didst thou tear the only Garland from me, That could make proud my Conquests? Oh ye Gods! If there be no such thing as Right or Wrong, But Force alone must swallow all possession, Then to what purpose in so long descents Were Roman Laws observ'd or Heav'n obey'd? If still the Great for Ease or Vice were form'd, Why did our first Kings toyl? Why was the Plow Advanc'd to be the Pillar of the State? Why was the lustful Tarquin with his House Expell'd, but for the Rape of bleeding Lucrece?

Emp.

I cannot bear thy words. Vext Wretch no more. He shocks me. Prithee Maximus no more. Reason no more; thou troublest me with Reason.

Max.

What servile Rascal, what most abject Slave, That lick'd the Dust where ere his Master trod, Bounded not from the Earth upon his feet, And shook his Chain, that heard of Brutus Vengeance? Who that ere heard the Cause, applauded not That Roman-Spirit, for his great Revenge? Yet mine is more, and touches me far nearer: Lucrece was not his Wife as she was mine, For ever ravisht, ever lost Lucina.

Emp.

Ah name her not! That Name, thy Face, and Reason, Are the three things on Earth I would avoid: Let me forget her, I'le forgive thee all, And give thee half the Empire to be gone.

Max.

Thus steel'd with such a Cause, what Soul but mine Had not upon the instant ended thee? Sworn in that moment.—Caesar is no more; And so I had. But I will tell thee Tyrant, To make thee hate thy Guilt, and curse thy Fears,

AEcius, whom thou hast slain, prevented me; AEcius, who on this bloody Spot lyes murder'd By barb'rous Caesar, watcht my vow'd Revenge, And from my Sword preserv'd ungrateful Caesar.

Emp.

How then dar'st thou, viewing this great Example, With impious Arms assault thy Emperor?

Max.

Because I have more Wit than Honesty, More of thy self, more Villany than Vertue, More Passion, more Revenge, and more Ambition, Than foolish Honour, and fantastick Glory. What share your Empire? Suffer you to live? After the impious Wrongs I have receiv'd, Couldst thou thus lull me, thou might'st laugh indeed.

Emp.

I am satisfy'd that thou didst ever hate me, Thy Wifes Rape therefore was an act of Justice, And so far thou hast eas'd my tender Conscience. Therefore to hope a Friendship from thee now, Were vain to me, as is the Worlds Continuance, Where solid pains succeed our sensless joys, And short-liv'd pleasures fleet like passing Dreams. AEcius, I mourn thy Fate as much as man Can do in my condition, that am going, And therefore should be busie with my self: Yet to thy memory I will allow Some grains of Time, and drop some sorrowing Tears. Oh AEcius! oh!

Max.

Why this is right, my Lord, And if these Drops are orient, you will set True Caesar, glorious in your going down, Tho' all the Journey of your Life was cloudy. Allow at least a Possibility, Where Thought is lost, and think there may be Gods, An unknown Countrey after you are dead, As well as there was one ere you were born.

Emp.

I've thought enough, and with that thought resolve To mount Imperial from the burning Pile. I grieve for AEcius! Yes, I mourn him, Gods, As if I had met my Father in the dark, And striving for the Way had murder'd him. Oh such a faithful Friend! that when he knew

I hated him, and had contriv'd his Death, Yet then he ran his Heart upon my Sword, And gave a fatal proof of dying Love.

Max.

'Tis now fit time, I've wrought you to my purpose, Else at my entrance with a brutal Blow, I'd fell'd you like a Victim for the Altar, Not warn'd you thus, and arm'd you for your hour, As if when ere Fate call'd a Caesar home, The judging Gods lookt down to mark his dying.

Emp.

Oh subtil Traitor! how he dallies with me? Think not thou sawcy Counsellor, my Slave, Tho' at this moment I should feel thy Foot Upon my Neck, and Sword within my Bowels, That I would ask a Life from thee. No Villain, When once the Emperor is at thy Command, Power, Life and Glory must take leave for ever. Therefore prepare the utmost of thy malice; But to torment thee more, and shew how little All thy Revenge can do, appears to Caesar. Would the Gods raise Lucina from the Grave, And fetter thee but while I might enjoy her, Before thy Face I'd ravish her again.

Max.

Hark, hark Aretus, and the Legions come.

Emp.

Come all, Aretus, and the Rebel Legions; Let AEcius too part from the Gaol of Death, And run the flying race of Life again. I'le be the foremost still, and snatch fresh Glory To my last Gasp, from the contending World; Garlands and Crowns too shall attend my Dying; Statues and Temples, Altars shall be rais'd To my great Name, while your more vile Inscriptions Time rots, and mouldring Clay is all your Portion.

Enter Aretus and Souldiers. They kill the Emperor.

Max.

Lead me to Death or Empire, which you please, For both are equal to a ruin'd man: But fellow-Souldiers, if you are my Friends, Bring me to Death, that I may there find peace, Since Empire is too poor to make amends

For half the Losses I have undergone, A true Friend and a tender faithful Wife, The two blest Miracles of humane Life. Go now and seek new Worlds to add to this, Search Heav'n for Blessings to enrich the gift, Bring Power and Pleasure on the wings of Fame, And heap this Treasure upon Maximus, You'l make a great man not a happy one; Sorrows so just as mine must never end, For my Love ravish'd, and my murder'd Friend.

Ex. omnes.